


the weight living.

by Galra Mama (robbierreyes)



Series: can you carry it with no regrets? [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Child Abandonment, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-23 11:05:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12505988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robbierreyes/pseuds/Galra%20Mama
Summary: They leave the blade in his crib. Not the safest place, but it was where it needed to be.





	the weight living.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not gonna lie I wrote this in like an hour between one and two am without a beta good luck.

It was an odd feeling, to hold a child so dear to them. It had been centuries, millennia since they clutched their older children so tightly to their chest and even with both of their older sons it had never felt like this. The wriggle mass of baby looks more human than Galra, for which the Pilot is infinitely grateful for, even when the stars called the Pilot back to them he would be fine on earth. Able to fit in with his father’s features from his soft inky black hair to his tiny feet, it was remarkable to the Pilot that the baby was not at least purple. Speaking of the baby Keith, as his father insisted his human name should be, let out a frustrated noise.

 

“What is it,  _ Kolar _ ?” The Pilot adjusted the child up in their arms as he continued to fuss and start thrash a little bit, closer to their face. Though the child did calm at the last word, recognizing the use of his Galra name.  _ Good _ . The Pilot had no distaste for the choice of his human name but it did not sound right on their tongue, there was bite to it, no reminder of millenniums worth of history in it. No small taste of a galaxy beyond this rock and its tiny solar system in a simple word. Though, he was a child of two worlds. A child of the Earth and the ruins Daibazaal. So two names were perhaps more necessity than they were willing to admit. 

 

The Pilot rests the child body against their own, so he can look over their shoulder. They carry him outside, into the heat of the texas evening. It’s only eighty degrees but to their furry body It’s practically too much to be out there, but it’s still nothing compared to how hot it had been in the hours of the daylight. And of course it’s certainly enough to be worth what they came out of their to see. The sky is littered with stars, stretching as far as the eye can see.    
  


“Look  _ Kolar _ , it’s our home.” The baby babbled, not yet able to understand what his mother had said but excited about their passion and being outside nonetheless. The Pilot holds him a little bit tighter, even if he did not know it yet, one day they would have to return to the sky and then they would either be able to return to him with the empire dead and the galaxy a better place, one that their son could see and be proud of, or of course their son reaching the stars on his own. “Don’t reach too soon little one, there’s so much I need to fix first. Then you can come to me.”

 

The return to the ramshackle little house with Keith resting his head on their shoulder, eyes starting to close. Bedtime fast approaching. They pepper the baby’s tiny head with kisses. Their time on this planet was up. They knew this. They had never intended to get so attached to this tiny primitive rock with it’s tiny people. They had never expected to fall in love with a man here, they had never expected to want to settle. It had never been a dream of theirs before, simply a hope that one day they would see children living a world free of the Empire and all it’s terror. They never expected to want their own children again, let alone a child they loved as much as Keith. 

 

They knew it was time to leave this world, to return to the stars and attempt to save the world in ways that could probably not be done anymore. They had to leave it now or they would stay forever. They would stay with this child and his father in a world far away. Oh gods of the Galra did they want to stay upon this rock and raise this child. The set him down gently, smoothing his soft hair so it only stuck up in certain directions. What was more important? One child or the children of billions of mothers across millions of planets. 

 

To try to stop and empire so fast that it stretched from recess of the galaxy to the other like it was nothing. An empire that had conquered all. Well almost all. There were pockets of safety, pockets of hope in all the darkness. There was the blade of course. The blade which they were sworn to forever. 

 

The Pilot pulls proof that oath from the bag they packed months ago when they first realized the time leave was approaching. It’s a small blade, practically a dagger in it’s current form. The Pilot heaved a deep sigh, it makes sense to take it with them. To leave with as a many weapons as they possibly could take, but they could not. This child would have no connection to them. He would be raised completely human as soon as the pilot left. There’d be nothing left for him to remember them by, nothing left for them to remember their heritage, their Galra blood which ran through his blood, nothing to remind that he even once had a mother who loved him. 

 

They leave the blade in his crib. Not the safest place, but it was where it needed to be. Easily found, easily remembered, perhaps he would forget it as some silly baby toy, perhaps his father will take it from him and give it to him a few years when he deems him ready, perhaps Keith will even treasure it. They did not want to dwell on it though they could not escape thoughts of their child not remembering them one day. 

 

The Pilot presses a kiss to the child’s small forehead. It was time to leave him. They were not ready. They would never ever be ready to leave him. They had no choice, it was stay with him or save the galaxy. The galaxy he lived in, the galaxy so many others lived in but gods of the galra did they want to stay. Even if they were not supposed to stay. They pull themself away from the baby boy. 

 

The Pilot ran from the house, unable to stop tears from streaming down their face. It’s been centuries since they cried. Too many centuries but just would not stop. They had to let them flow, just this once.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey who else has abandonment issues and loves Keith?


End file.
